


Make it a Double

by LostPoe



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), Skyfall - Fandom
Genre: 00Q New Year Party, Developing Relationship, M/M, Q is a cute drunk, new years fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 07:28:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1129957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LostPoe/pseuds/LostPoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a long shift Q is roped into attending MI6's annual New Years Eve party and ends up with more then he expected.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make it a Double

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheBritishGovernment](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBritishGovernment/gifts).



> Hi All, this is my contribution to the 00Q New Years Shindig! 
> 
> My prompt was: New Years party in MI6- They’d like to see sarcasm, fluff, flirting.
> 
> As usual it hasn't been beta'd or brit picked.

“Can I get a Rum and Coke please?” A tired voice sighed, the young man dropping himself onto the bar stool. “Make it a double” Q grumbled before folding his arms onto the countertop then set his head down. He could care less who was staring at him, he had been up for far too long to care. The only reason he was at this damn party was because of Eve. ‘To keep me company’ she had said; which was a load of bull since she was happily off talking with Melody from HR. He knew there was some other sort of reason for him to be here but he was too bloody tired to care. Either way he doubted anyone would want him as company.

He heard the bartender set the drink down beside him, just within reach but not close enough that he’d blindly knock it over. Lifting his head, he took up his drink so he could take a healthy sized swallow before dropping his head back down. If he had his own way he’d be on his way home for some take out and sleep. Perhaps if he was lucky his cat would grace him with her presence and curl up with him. Now all he had to do was make it through a drink or two, say hi to Eve then head home. Yeah, he could do that.

“I’ll take another Albert,” An irritating voice sounded just next to him, causing Q to groan loudly. James Bloody Bond was the last man he wanted as company right now. He could never figure out where he stood with the agent, his inability to follow orders or return equipment drove him near mad on a regular basis. A general colossal pain in the arse; which was putting it rather mildly he figured.

“You look like shit Q” Bond commented softly, looking over at the exhausted looking brunette.

“Well excuse me, not all of us can look like we've just rolled out of the newest issue of GQ” Q groused, knocking back the last of his drink before signally for another. He set his head back down onto the counter top, not really caring about keeping up appearances. It had been a long day and was new years eve, so sue him.

An amused huff was heard to his left and Q spared the other man a glance which was a mixture of annoyance and intrigue. The fact the other man hadn’t gotten up and walked away was quite interesting as there was much better company for the agent then him. Mostly those with short skirts and long legs. Lifting his head tiredly from the bar top, he eyed the other man before staring at his empty glass as if it held all the answers in the world for him. He knew it didn’t of course, why would it.

“Does that mean you find me attractive Q?” Bond teased with a grin, causing the younger man to roll his eyes.

“Sod off Bond” Q grumbled, his cheeks a tad pink. It was from the alcohol not what he had just said. The fact that he did find the man very attractive wasn’t up for current discussion right now. Not only one drink in. Hell there wasn’t enough drink in the world that would help him admit anything of the sort.

“Tanner said you've been here since Sunday” Bond continued on, pausing to take a sip from his drink once both of theirs arrived.

“Yes, well your dear friend double oh six decided to go off mission, ah ta Albert” Q took up his glass and raised it in thanks before taking a sip. One was usually enough for him but like Bond had so eloquently pointed out he had been here for nearly four day. It wouldn’t hurt to live a little. Right?

“You know what’s a better question,” Q started with a half smile. “Is why are you, Britain's man of mystery, is hanging about at a work function on New years Eve.”

“Maybe I’m enjoying the scenery?” Bond ventured with that damn charming grin of his.

“Mm… no, I really don’t think so” Q chimed in, shaking his head as rouge dark curls cascaded over his brow. “Try again Bond, with a bit more conviction so you’re a little more believable.”

The double oh fell silent for a moment, taking a sip of his drink but never removing his eyes from the younger mans form. It was strange to have someone like James Bond giving you his utmost attention. There was a calculating look there that he hadn’t seen before directed towards himself. Marks yes, Quartermasters not so much.

Since meeting each other in the gallery there had always been the teasing banter. Lately however the teasing had gone a little further, far more suggestive than they had ever been before. Q didn’t mind, though he had to keep reminding himself that the other didn’t mean it. Despite the words the man had imparted to Silva, Q was quite certain that he wasn’t quite the other mans type.

“How about this” Bond leaned over towards Q, laying his larger hand over his cardigan clad elbow that still rested on the counter. “Perhaps I’m here for the company of a certain someone and was just waiting for them to arrive?”

“Well you best be off to find them then” Q snorted, rising from his slouched position against the bar. “Only us boffins here Bond,” he mocked, polishing off the last of his drink before moving to slide off the stool. Without knowing what the man was playing at, Q wasn’t going to stick around to see. 

What shocked him was the look Bond gave him, a mixture of hurt and disappointment that made him take pause. Digging a few notes out of his pocket, he dropped them into the tip jar and made to leave. The look on Bonds face was throwing him more then usual and he wasn’t sure if he could wholly blame the alcohol. 

“Good night Bond,” Q murmured before making to leave.

“Wait Q” Bond quickly darted a hand out to catch the boffins arm, holding him back firmly. “Stay and have another drink with me, I’ll even buy this round.”

“Its an open bar.”

“Humor me then; am I so repulsive to you that you can’t even do that for me?” Bond asked, his expression open and surprisingly vulnerable. The hold on his arm was released, allowing him the option to stay or go. Damn him.

“You sure lay it on thick” Q muttered, sitting himself back down on the bar stool. He couldn’t help but feel dazzled by the brilliance of the double o's smile towards him before the other turned to order them another round.

_I am such a sucker…._ he thought to himself as he got himself comfortable again.

_______________________

 

Q wasn't sure if it was the sheer amount of alcohol he had consumed or what but he distinctly felt like he was floating. Groaning softly, he struggled feebly only to get a grunt of annoyance in return and the hold around his thin body tightening. Whining softly in protest, Q opened his eyes only to be greeted by complete blurriness. Where were his glasses?

“Wha…?” Q mumbled, his tongue feeling thick in his mouth.

“Shhh, I’ve got you” Bond whispered softly.

James Bond was carrying him; which was a strange feeling for him drunk or not. Normally the thought of someone carrying him would mortify him but right now he couldn’t be arsed to care. Closing his eyes again, the young Quartermaster tried to recall what he had been doing before now; though his booze addled brain wasn’t being helpful at all. The last thing he remembered was sitting at the bar with Bond and had been laughing over some of his past missions.

Next thing he knew he was being set down onto something soft and was tugging his shoes off. Soon his upper half was lifted and the couch dipped before he was set down against something a little firmer. Bonds lap, ah thats what it had to be judging by the way his pillow shifted under his head. Opening his eyes, he blurrily watched Bond take his suit coat off then drape it over him.

“You’re an idiot you know that?”

“Nuh uh! I’m a cer… certified genius! My mum had me tested!” He slurred in protest, flailing a arm up to make his point only to have his arm grabbed. The agent gently forced him to set it back down and re tucked the jacket around his slender frame.

“Oh I’m sure she did.. among other things I bet” Bond huffed amusedly, sounding far too sober for Q’s liking. 

Q fell silent for a moment, watching the other get comfortable against the couch. Watching the all too smooth way Bond undid his tie and toss it away from them then open the first two buttons on his shirt made him frown. In his attempt to focus on the glimpse of expose collar bone it caused the room suddenly tip and lurch forward on him.

“Oh god, the room feels like its going to start spinning….” Q groaned softly, clumsy throwing an arm across his eyes. A gentle hand took hold of his arm again, smoothing callous roughened fingers around his slender wrist before shifting his arm back against the side of him once again. 

“Close your eyes and go to sleep then,” Bond shushed gently, raising that hand from his wrist to rub his thumb softly under one of Q’s eyes. 

“Will you stay?” Q ventured, his tone holding an innocent quality to it.

“Nothing short of a trained assassin would tear me away Q, I’ll be right here.” Bond murmured, his tone remaining steadily soft.

“Promise?”

“Promise”

The hacker heaved a heavy sigh and closed his eyes for good this time, his breath slowly starting to even out. All the tension in his body started to seep from him as he finally allowed sleep to creep up on him.

“Happy new year Q…” was whispered into the dark of the room. The feel of a large hand stroking through curly wild hair never left; even as the clocks chimed in a new year and a chorus of drunken well wishes sounded just from the other side of the door. 

It was the last thing he heard before falling asleep.


End file.
